HIS: Angel (Hoseok) | {Book 5} ✔️

(VIII)

I'm back for this book!

😇

It was past 8 at night and everyone else was gone. Why should they stay since it was after work hours. Perhaps only the janitors and security and few others were here but I was stuck here, still reeling from the fight with Mora.

Mora always had this affect on me. I was so easily controlled by her. She always had more control in the relationship. Mora knew very well that she had the upper hand.

My head was in pain, my body was sore and unsatisfied and my eyes were heavy with sleep.

I wanted to sleep.

I really did but I could not.

I was stuck at the office unable to sleep, because I could not sleep.

Damn insomnia...

Three years of insomnia and I didn't even know why. My psychologists, doctor did not know why and the sleeping aids were now not helping anymore. And since the dosages were already high, my doctors could not raise it any higher. Exercise...had failed long time ago.

I was stuck. Everyday my body felt as if it was depleting my life force in order to keep moving. I was nearing my end.

Sometime long time ago, in the beginning, I had been able to sleep after a long night of coitus but that had its limit too. In order to utilize sex, I had to push my body to the limits in order to fall asleep. It worked as I would be able to sleep but Mora had hated it.

Mora had absolutely hated it.

She had screamed and threatened to break up with me when one night I had gone a bit too far. I had been too rough with her, the sex leaving blue purple bruises from the thrusts and the grip from my hands as I had held her in place.

I had not even known that I had done that. During sex, I would move my body by itself, letting the rhythm take its course. My eyes would be shut closed as I moved inside of her so I could tire my body out but it had only harmed my relationship with Mora.

Maybe...later. Maybe it would get better.

That was all I could do—hope.

😇

It hadn't gotten better. Instead it got worse.

I watched as Mora left the apartment again. More frequent than it should be, she left without even saying a goodbye.

After the fight at the company, my relationship with Mora became even more strained. We were barely talking to each other. Even when we were in the same room, we were having a hard time talking to each other.

When I was in the room with her or at the apartment, I tried many times amicably ask her and to talk about what we had fought about. She just ignored me. She had gotten annoyed and pushed me away and since then, she had avoided me, going out late and sometimes not even coming back.

No matter how many times I ask her, or no matter how I ask her about her discontent in pushing our plans for the future, Mora would say no. What frustrated me was not her denying me, but it was her inability to explain her reasons. I don't know if it was because she didn't know how to explain it or if it was because she did not have one. Either way, my frustrations were not only on her rejection to talk about our relationship and the future but also on Mora avoiding the talk about marriage, baby and becoming a family.

All I wanted...was an answer, was that too much for me to want from her?

Was it so bad of me to want to salvage the relationship that lasted nearly a decade?

Mora and I began dating years ago. Thinking back on it, I had been the one to ask her out, I had been the one to initiate anything. In terms of amount of love for each other, I was the one who loved more, and not her.

Only now, years past, and my exhaustion, insomnia, and stress pushing me to the final strands of my sanity, did I come to realize that the relationship was...not toxic, but neither good for me. Probably now that I was older, and the love that I had for her was—not lessened—but more matured and less discolored by rose-colored glasses, I could see that it was only me making the effort. And I did not know if it was something I was holding on to because of the attachment to all the years we had together or because I was fooling myself.

Most likely though, I was sure that the second-guessing I was doing was not because of someone else.

I swallowed the thick saliva that had coiled in my mouth.

There was only a disgusting taste in my mouth as I thought about my current state of life. My thoughts were on rampage. I thought a lot of my current fiancée but never was it with joy.

Instead my mind was filled with images that were sweet and almost too sinful to replay in my head, but without any control, my head continued to torture me.

With home, a place where it should give me rest, turned into my personal hell, I had no choice but to leave.

I left.

And the place where I could only go to was...work.